Saturday in Brantôme: A Geocache, a Riverside Lunch, and the Cleanest Public Toilets in France

 Photos will be added later. 

Saturday in Brantôme: A Geocache, a Riverside Lunch, and the Cleanest Public Toilets in France

Saturday morning began with a 10:00 departure for Brantôme, and I was especially happy about this particular outing. Of all the towns we have visited in this part of France, Brantôme is one of my favorites.

It is sometimes called the “Venice of the Périgord,” and it does not take long to understand why. The Dronne River curls around the historic center, and almost everywhere you look there is water. Old stone houses sit directly along its banks, bridges cross from one part of town to another, and trees lean over the river, their reflections mixing with those of centuries-old buildings.

On this bright Saturday morning, the water was remarkably calm. Buildings, trees, bridges and even the great abbey were mirrored on its surface. Every few steps seemed to offer another photograph.

The imposing Abbey of Brantôme rises beside the river, backed not by an ordinary hillside but by a limestone cliff. Huge openings in the rock hint at another part of Brantôme’s story, its troglodyte spaces carved into and sheltered beneath the cliff. The juxtaposition is extraordinary. Architecture that took generations to build sits immediately against geology that took millions of years to create.

But this morning I decided to do something different.

A Different Way to Explore

Instead of simply walking around looking for photographs, I went geocaching.

For anyone unfamiliar with it, geocaching is essentially a worldwide treasure hunt using GPS coordinates. Someone hides a small container, records its coordinates, and other geocachers use an app or GPS device to find it. Some caches are easy. Others require a surprising amount of detective work.

What I like about geocaching while traveling is that it changes the way you see a place.

Suddenly I wasn’t just looking at Brantôme’s beautiful buildings. I was looking at stone walls, railings, corners, bridges and all those little spaces most visitors walk past without a second thought.

And Brantôme is a particularly wonderful place for that kind of wandering.

My search took me along the river and through areas where the medieval town seems almost inseparable from the water. Small stone buildings stand right at the river’s edge. Shutters cover old windows. Vines climb walls. Narrow waterways disappear between buildings. Beneath the clear water I could see long strands of aquatic vegetation moving with the current.

The river itself became part of the treasure hunt.

There was also a very modern bit of hardware hiding in plain sight among all this history. I found myself examining the underside of one of Brantôme’s red metal structures closely enough to photograph its bolts, brackets and galvanized components. That is another funny thing about geocaching. It can turn a perfectly normal piece of infrastructure into something suddenly worthy of intense investigation.

Whether or not something is actually the hiding place becomes the question.

Brantôme’s Wonderful Contrasts

The route gave me a chance to notice how many different Brantômes coexist in this tiny town.

There is the monumental Brantôme, with the abbey and massive limestone cliffs.

There is the romantic Brantôme, reflected perfectly in the Dronne.

There is the everyday Brantôme, where someone rides a bicycle past a building that has been standing for centuries.

And then there is the slightly quirky Brantôme.

At one point I discovered a garage with its enormous wooden doors standing open. Inside was a beautiful Morgan-style roadster, surrounded by an entire shrine to automobile racing. Photographs of vintage race cars covered the wall, along with helmets, a steering wheel, rally memorabilia and a wonderful sign announcing “Morgan Parking Only.”

It was one of those scenes I love finding when I travel. It wasn’t a monument. It wasn’t on a sightseeing list. It was simply a glimpse into someone’s enthusiasm and personality.

Nearby, the commercial life of the town had adapted itself to the landscape. Souvenir shops and little businesses sit beneath the overhanging limestone. Hats, postcards and trinkets spill toward the street while the enormous rock face literally forms part of the setting.

And, naturally, there was an ice cream shop. Le Glacier de Brantôme was impossible to miss, surrounded by ivy and guarded by giant ice cream cones.

And Then There Were the Public Toilets

I have to devote a few sentences to something that normally would never earn a place in a travel blog.

The public toilets.

From the outside, the municipal toilet building is wonderfully understated, a low stone structure tucked beneath mature trees and identified simply by a small sign reading Toilettes.

I opened the door not knowing quite what to expect.

They were immaculate.

And I mean immaculate.

The interior was bright and spotless, with clean white tile accented by a narrow band of warm beige mosaic. The stalls were neat and well maintained. There was an accessible toilet with a substantial grab handle and clear signage. Even the red stall partitions coordinated with the deep red details that seem to appear throughout Brantôme.

There was also something particularly charming about the open upper portion of the women’s stalls. Daylight streamed through an open red-framed window, and from inside I could look directly across at the pale stone buildings of Brantôme.

It may be the first public restroom I have ever photographed extensively.

But when something is unexpectedly this clean, functional and well cared for, it deserves documentation.

Travel isn’t always castles and cathedrals.

Sometimes the memorable discovery is an exceptionally nice public toilet.

Lunch Along the River

Eventually our wandering led us to lunch, and the setting could hardly have been better.

We gathered beneath a deep burgundy awning at long tables surrounded by matching red chairs. Beyond us was the river and one of Brantôme’s old stone bridges. The trees provided shade while the town continued quietly around us.

After walking and geocaching in the sunshine, I was ready to eat.

My plate arrived with a generous omelet, golden French fries and a simple green salad. The omelet was rustic and substantial, exactly the kind of uncomplicated lunch that seems particularly appropriate in a small French town. Bottles of chilled water and sparkling San Pellegrino crowded the table along with bread baskets, glasses and everyone else’s plates.

Around the table, people talked, ate and compared what they had been doing during the morning. By the end of lunch there were partially empty plates, scattered pieces of bread and all the evidence of a group that had settled comfortably into a leisurely French meal.

And that, perhaps, is what I enjoyed most about the morning.

I already knew Brantôme was beautiful. I already knew I loved its river, its stone buildings and the way the entire town seems wrapped around the Dronne.

But geocaching gave me an excuse to look at it differently.

Instead of moving from landmark to landmark, I paid attention to bolts under railings, openings in cliffs, little garages, reflections in the water, shops tucked under rock ledges and all the tiny details in between.

Then we sat down together beside the river and had lunch.

A treasure hunt, a beautiful French town, an omelet and fries, and quite possibly the cleanest public toilets I have encountered on this trip.

Not a bad Saturday morning at all.